


they say you can catch it but sometimes you're born with it

by tin_tweezers



Series: (predispositional) [2]
Category: Kane and Feels (Podcast)
Genre: Abusive Family, Anal Sex, Bipolar Luce but it’s not the focus of this one it’s just there, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Catholicism, Dirty Talk, Disassociation, Dubious Consent, F/M, Forced Crossdressing, Gender Dysphoria, Gender Play, Homophobic Language, Internalized Transphobia, Just to be safe, Rape/Non-con Elements, Submission, Tagging This As, Undernegotiated Kink, author has never written an unproblematic sex scene in her life and isn’t going to start now, boy howdy that sure is a collection of tags huh, consensual sexual encounter gone wrong, genderqueer!Brutus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2020-07-30 21:34:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20103955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tin_tweezers/pseuds/tin_tweezers
Summary: Around the time that teenaged Brutus discovered he liked wearing lipstick, his mother also discovered he liked wearing lipstick, so that was the end of that.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just... mind the tags.

Around the time that teenaged Brutus discovered he liked wearing lipstick, his mother also discovered he liked wearing lipstick, so _ that _ was the end of _ that_.

“Just my luck. A useless lump _ and _ a faggot,” she snarled, and he flinched as she crushed his mirror, his record player, and his tube of mascara beneath her heel. “I ought to throw you out on your fat arse. Teach you a lesson you won’t forget.”

Brutus didn’t forget. He lifted weights and shot up to six foot seven and joined the police academy and watched football with the lads over beers at the pub and he studiously cast his eyes away from the shop windows featuring dresses that wouldn’t even have fit him, anyway.

One night when he was twenty six, his then-girlfriend noticed him glancing away from a Victoria’s Secret display as he walked her home from an evening at the cinema.

“You Catholic lads are all the same,” she said, nudging him playfully, “Mama’s boys, the lot of you.”

“I’d have invited her along if I knew she’d be so welcome.”

“Keeps you on a short leash, does she?”

“Thought that was for you to do.”

She threaded her hand around his tie and tugged him down for a kiss that ended in a nip.

“You’re bloody right it is,” she growled into his lips.

When they got back to her flat, she tied his wrists and ankles to her bed frame and rode him until he sobbed into the pillow. 

“You like that, do you?” She gave his thigh a brisk slap, and slid off him, ignoring his protests. He craned his neck to watch as she padded across the room, crouched, and untangled her underwear from the unceremonious pile of clothes they had deposited by the doorway in their rush. 

“All trussed up and desperate,” she chuckled, and then she was clambering up onto the bed and crouching over him again, running a hand through his chest hair and giving a light tug. He yelped, and she shushed him, tweaking the tiny gold crucifix he still wore around his neck. 

“You’re such a good boy, Brutus. Always so gentle, always so proper. Never one to look at those nasty girls and their nasty, dirty clothes, not you.” 

She draped her lacy bra over his chest and twisted the panties around his cock and balls. The soft cups pressed into his chest right below his nipples, and he gasped as she gave him a long, hard stroke. 

“God, do you have any idea what you look like, Brutus? Pretty as a picture, you are. So good for me. So nice and meek and pretty. Will you let me take care of you, Brutus?”

“Please,” he begged, “_ Please, _ I can’t-”

She sank back onto him, and fucked him until tears streamed from his eyes.

Later, as her soft snores filled the darkened room, Brutus quietly rolled out of bed and felt his way to the bathroom. He wrapped a towel around himself, and buried his face in the fabric until the shaking had subsided.

The relationship did not last long after that.

Brutus packed the memory away and never would have let himself think about it again. 

Except, one day, he met Lucifer Kane.

And Lucifer Kane didn’t know how to leave well enough alone.


	2. Chapter 2

“Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“A brute.”

“I don’t think so. Or if I am, I don’t let myself know it.”

“You don’t seem like a brute.”

“What do I seem like?”

“Soft. And sweet.”

The bottom drops out of Brutus’ stomach and the demon’s mocking laughter echoes in his ears. He asks Jenny to leave.

After, in the slipstream of consciousness that followed battering the foul thing to within an inch of its life and being carried back to his flat, he blinked his eyes open and saw Kane watching him. It was dark.

“Time’s it?”

“Three in the morning.”

“Mm. That’s good.”

Kane was leaned back in his chair, out of the sodium orange streetlight from the window, his face in shadow. Only his hands remained visible, twisting and twisting a frayed piece of string. 

“How’s Jenny?”

“Grateful. Very shaken. She was quite attentive to you in your stupor, you know. Left around midnight.”

”Mm. Should thank her.”

“She should be thanking you. That bastard would have fed off of the entire building if not for your timely intervention. You’re the hero of the hour, really. Capital time to ask her out for dinner.”

Brutus watched Kane’s hands. Twist, twist, twist.

“How  did you know the sorry thing was there?”

Brutus closed his eyes. It was dark after all. Kane couldn’t see him.

“Brutus?”

“Talent, bud,” Brutus murmured, not even sure what he was saying, “Guess it’s just talent.”

He slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dialogue at the beginning is lifted from “Sheepshank, Sailor and Noose.”


	3. Chapter 3

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“What do you  mean, _no_?”

“You’re the pretty one, you dress the part.”

“Brutus, I will be two floors below you in the club’s basement, drawing a binding sigil to draw the demons down to me! I can’t be on the dance floor.”

“I’ll go without.”

“It’s  Halloween, Brutus, gay Christmas, there won’t be a body without glitter in the entire bleeding establishment.”

“I’m not doing it.”

“_Why_?  It’s just- it’s so  _petty_, Brutus. After all the absurdity that the two of us have gotten up to in our years of acquaintance, up to and including actual literal arson, why is  this  the point that you draw the line?”

Brutus said nothing.

Luce paced. He was agitated. Brutus could smell it on him at this point. His eyes were wild. He had a plan and  _ Brutus was not complying, Brutus was being difficult, Brutus wasn’t acting according to plan. _

Well, see how _he_ liked being stonewalled, for once.

“It’s just a bit of  _ eyeliner_, Brutus,” Kane finally exploded.

“No.”

“_Why_?  Is it a problem in general? Is it a problem when I wear it? Is it a problem with, with the client, with gay men in general, is that it? Because between you and me, Brutus, if that’s something you’ve got a problem with, you’d better pack up and leave this flat immediately because I-“

He stopped and Brutus saw Luce’s eyes narrow. Saw his brain catch up with his mouth, and then go a bit further. 

Brutus hand tightened on his mug of tea. He’d been cradling it for the better part of an hour. 

“...Brutus-”

Brutus got up and left.

He gently closed the front door and did not slam it behind him, but (_he thought as he carefully, quietly walked down the stairs and out the front door_) it was a near thing.

He was still holding his tea.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mind the tags.

They kiss in the heat of battle and it’s perfect.

“Later,” Luce gasps, pushing himself away, ghostly flames dancing behind his feverish eyes, sparking around his finger tips, “We are going to do this later.”

“That a promise, Luce?”

“God, it fucking is.”

Later, Brutus backs him against the door to their flat and Luce grabs him by the neck and crashes their lips together sloppily. Brutus feels adrenaline coursing through his body, feels his hands shaking as they slide down Luce’s chest, and through it all, Luce is laughing, laughing, laughing.

“Shut up, you mad bastard, I’m trying to get your trousers off,” Brutus growls at him, and Luce wraps his legs around Brutus’ waist and levers himself up, hands on his lapels.

“Sofa,” he says, breathlessly, and they’re eye to eye,  _ first time since I’ve known him _ , staggering across the room off balance, Brutus’ arms full of Luce and Luce’s teeth at his ear.

Luce falls backwards onto the sofa, undoing the buckle on his belt, throwing it aside.

“Go on,” he says breathlessly, rucking off his trousers and splaying his legs. “Suck me off, Brutus, I know you want to.”

Brutus  moans, and his knees hit the ground before he can think. He shuffles forward, and wraps his hand around Luce’s cock, running his tongue up the length hungrily and sucking it into his mouth.

“_Haaaaa_, oh  God,” Luce writhes beneath him, “oh Christ, you’re good at this,  _I knew you’d be good at this_,  oh God-“

He winds his legs around Brutus’ neck and pulls him in, hands stroking his scalp, his cheeks, the place his lips close around the base of his cock. Brutus knows there’s saliva running freely down his chin and neck but he can’t stop, would never stop, loves his face slicked snug between Luce’s thighs, loves feeling held and used and precious and wanted.

“Brutus. Brutus. Brutus, let up, Brutus, I’m going to-“ he feels Luce trembling around him, and doubles down, swallowing around Luce’s shaft and circling fingertips lightly around his balls. Luce bows upward like he’s been electrified and gives a bitten off scream, coming down Brutus’ throat while his legs spasm and clench, spasm and clench.

Brutus holds his softening cock in his mouth, still kneeling, content to drift while Luce’s ragged breathing returns to him. He breathes slowly through his nose, lost in the scent of Luce’s body.

Fingers cup his face, card his hair. Eventually, he feels rather than hears Luce murmuring to him, the sound rumbling through Luce’s bones to his.

“...I’ve wanted to do that since you punched the suicide demon, you crazy son of a bitch.”

He feels Luce shift and relaxes his jaw, allows his cock to slide from between his lips. A single thread of saliva stretches between his lips and the head, and Luce reaches with one hand to break it, then pushes his fingers into Brutus’ swollen mouth.

“Look at you,” he breathes, awed, and hooks his fingers, tugging Brutus’ face to the left, almost back to leaning against Luce’s thigh, and then back again.

Brutus closes his eyes and rocks where Luce pushes him.

“You’re beautiful like this, Brutus. Most of the time, if I’m honest, but right now...”

He leans his other hand down into the shadows between Brutus’ legs and it finds the swell of his erection.

“I’m going to take care of you, now. Would you like that, Brutus?”

Brutus moaned again, mouth full of Luce’s hand.

“Come up here, then.”

He positions Brutus on the couch so he’s sitting, boneless and pliant, pulls off his trousers and unbuttons his shirt.

“I’d  rather  like to ride your cock, I think. It is a bit large, to be sure, _but_ I flatter myself, I’ve always been one for a challenge. Would you like that, Brutus?

He snakes his fingers into Brutus’ hair and pulls him in again for another filthy kiss.

“Don’t go anywhere.”

He retreats into the other room. 

Brutus stares at his hands where Luce had pushed them back into the sofa. He wonders where he could possibly go; his arms are no longer his to move.

Luce stretches himself open in Brutus’ lap with a bottle of lube from his bedroom. He tips Brutus’ chin upwards and nips at his mouth, grasps his cock and positions himself over it.

“ _Christ_, ” he gasps as he sinks slowly onto his cock. “Oh, it’s big. Oh, that feels good.”

He gives an experimental bounce. Brutus whimpers and Luce settles his hands on the backrest on either side of his head. He begins to drive himself up and down.

”So full, Brutus, god, you’re amazing, you’re perfect. Look at you, laid out for me just waiting to be used. We should have been doing this  _years_ ago.”

He stuffs his clean hand back into Brutus’ mouth, and Brutus closes his eyes, head falling back, pinned in place as Luce fucks himself on Brutus’ lap.

“God, that neck. God, your chest. Love you inside me. Love the sounds you make. Come for me, love, come on, come on, fill me up,  _Brutus_ -“

Without warning, Luce pinches Brutus’ nipples with his spit slick fingers and twists. 

Brutus screams. He feels himself come deep within Luce, an explosive, shuddering burst of white heat that he registers from a distance. Luce clenches around him, throwing his head back, milking the body for all it has.

And then he feels empty.

“...Brutus?”

His eyes are still closed, and he feels the moment the heat and urgent lust of Luce’s body plunged into sudden confusion. He feels a hesitant touch against his cheek, a shift around his softening cock, still lodged deep within Luce’s warm body.

“Brutus, are. You...?”

Brutus imagines he feels Luce lean forward to wipe tears from his cheeks. Imagines he feels a thousand hands crawling across his skin and imagines he is completely alone.

He imagines he hears Luce calling his name again.

It doesn’t really matter what he imagines, he thinks to himself. He was never here in the first place.

He doesn’t exist for a long time after that.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say [hello](https://tin-tweezers.tumblr.com/).


End file.
